In the morning, it had cooled to a modest 76 degrees. I had heard the night before that the outlook was overcast and rainy. Rain was to be preferred to heat any day. I had the feeling I could rack up a lot of miles that day. I knew I could make it well into Kentucky.
A few minutes before one, I made it to Sebree, right at the Illinois- Kentucky border. As I ate my plate lunch in the cafe, the wind started to pick up outside. A storm was gathering. The next stop was Falls of Rough, a campground 76 miles away. There was nothing in between. It would be “no prisoners” if I left Sebree. I didn’t even think about it. I couldn’t just stop after that minimal amount of mileage that morning.
their plate lunch was a breaded tenderloin pattie, fresh mashed potatoes, sliced tomatoes, pinto beans, and rolls. a lot of food for $3.50. hot baloney seemed to be a popular sandwich – fried baloney, tomato slice, on a hamburger bun.
It rained all the way. At four separate houses, dogs came out to attack me. Apparently, there were no leash laws in that area. I was able to outrun all of them, but fantasized about stopping and killing one or two. Thinking about different techniques using rope, my hard-soled shoes, and Swiss army knife kept my mind occupied. I considered getting a spray bottle and filling it with ammonia or Clorox.
it seems cruel now, but adrenaline does that.
The sun started to set, and I was still a good distance away from Falls of Rough. For the final half hour of riding, it was too dark to even read my cyclometer.
At Falls of Rough, camping was right out. Not after 125 miles of riding. I just wanted to be served. It was 8:10 when I entered the lobby of the motel.
“PLEASE don’t tell me you’re full!” I sighed, as I dripped water onto the floor.
Fortunately, they had a room. It was upstairs, so I had to make several trips with my gear. Afterwards, I made my Friday check-in call to Merrianne, and had dinner at the attached restaurant.
On the weather channel that night, I heard that an inch and a quarter of rain had fallen, but that the next day would be cool and dry, with a high of 85. Perfect for riding! Actually, in retrospect, the previous day’s rain had been a blessing. I could have never logged that kind of mileage in heat.
it was sarver’s motel.